MUSIC REVIEW | JAMES BLUNT; All Rise! Hail the Would-Be Rock Star

By KELEFA SANNEH

Published: March 3, 2008

A few years ago James Blunt was what Sara Bareilles is today: an emerging singer and songwriter with a big hit and a growing fan base. His major-label debut album, ''Back to Bedlam,'' became one of this decade's most popular. Hers, ''Little Voice,'' is just getting started; it was released in July and finally climbed into the Top 10 last week.

They came to the Beacon Theater on Friday night, and perhaps they were pondering the contradictory demands of pop stardom. You spend years chasing the right song. And then, if you're lucky, if the song really takes off, you spend the rest of your life trying to escape it, or learning to live with it.

For Ms. Bareilles, from California, that song is ''Love Song,'' a toothsome piano-pop confection that may well be stuck in your head by the time you finish reading this paragraph. The first three words -- ''Head under water'' -- are probably enough to summon up the Rhapsody commercial that helped make it a hit. And the chorus is a plea disguised as a dismissal: ''I'm not gonna write you a love song/'Cause you asked for it, 'cause you need one.'' It sits at No. 4 on Billboard's Hot 100 chart, wedged between radio favorites from Alicia Keys and Rihanna.

At the Beacon, Ms. Bareilles was earnest and unassuming, talking cheerfully about the emotional turmoil that inspired this rather untumultuous music. But her voice made it easy to ignore the banalities: it's warm and precise, with a hint of rasp; she guides notes to their places, bending them gently.

In ''Gravity,'' after maneuvering through a thicket of doggerel (''You're neither friend nor foe/Though I can't seem to let you go''), she arrived at one word -- a long ''down,'' ascending slightly and then falling to earth -- that made it easy to forget the others.

Mr. Blunt's signature song is ''You're Beautiful,'' an international smash so successful that it started to seem like a running joke. That song got him pegged as a sincere, lovelorn troubadour, when he's a would-be rock star with a home on the club-crazy island of Ibiza and an evident appetite for adulation. (He is also a British Army veteran, and he reminded listeners of that when he sang a quavering song about ''a place called Kosovo.'')

On Friday night he dashed through the audience and basked in the applause. At the end of his set he came to the edge of the stage and jerked his palms upward, commanding fans to give him a standing ovation.

His voice -- a high half-strangled bray -- suggests urgency, which is often unfortunate, never more so than when he is singing ''Annie,'' a mean-spirited ode to an aspiring star who never made it. He proceeded from a crude sexual joke to a mawkish refrain (''I'll sing for you''); it was hard to tell whether he was offering a sneer or sympathy, and hard to decide which would be worse. More loathsome songs have been written, but not many.

''Annie'' comes from ''All the Lost Souls'' (Atlantic), released in September. That album has failed to match the success of ''Back to Bedlam.'' (The slight but inoffensive lead single, ''1973,'' peaked at No. 73 on Billboard's Hot 100 chart.) But when he grabs hold of a few chords and belts out a satanically catchy lament, like ''Carry You Home'' or ''Shine On,'' his utter shamelessness doesn't seem so bad.

Neither does his career arc. A few years removed from ''You're Beautiful,'' he can still fill the Beacon Theater with fans who stay -- most of them, anyway -- until the end. Next time, if he hasn't taken another trip up the charts, the crowd might be a bit smaller. The stage too. But he'll probably get exactly as many standing ovations as he asks for.

PHOTO: An appetite for adulation: James Blunt at the Beacon Theater.(PHOTOGRAPH BY RAHAV SEGEV FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES)